


Out of Time

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [593]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:20:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: Anonymous askedKiss prompt list request, please ❤️ Virgil & Conrad 38





	Out of Time

38.  because they’re running out of time

Conrad had been his rescue once – rich bored dumb billionaires aside, most people don’t meet International Rescue more than once. So Virgil hadn’t worried until now.

“What, is it date night?” Conrad coughed, barely visible in the thick sleeting rain, little more than an orange smear and a flash of dwindling heat in Virgil’s HUD.

“When you said you had to go to a work retreat,” Virgil fought to keep his tone light as he picked his way forward. “I pictured a grey meeting room with a boring powerpoint presentation about teamwork.”

Even over the roar of the storm, Conrad’s voice sounded raspy.  “Well, tell that to my bosses who decided mountaineering at the end of autumn was a good way to build team spirit.”

Over the radio, Virgil could hear Gordon manage the lift of the main segment of the chalet, pulling it free of the landslide.  Technically, heavy lifting was his job and calming down the desperate outliers was Gordon’s, but as soon as the tour manager had sent over the list of missing, they all knew that plan was out the window. Virgil hadn’t even stuck around long enough to argue.

Virgil fought the urge to rush now; the snow here was powder light, turning to slushy icy as the weather continued to rage. The last thing he wanted was to turn Mother Nature against them, but Conrad’s vitals were cooling, all his signs flashing a warning.

Time was running out.

Conrad’s fingers were cold even through Virgil’s gloves, his hands clumsy as he clawed at Virgil’s uniform, looking for a place to cling.

“Scott, I need an extraction,  _now,_ ” Virgil ordered, already scanning the skies.

Conrad was dressed for the chalet, and the thin layers were soaked through.  He wasn’t shivering, though, his cheeks bright red and irises blown, and Virgil didn’t need his scanners to diagnose dangerous hypothermia.  Conrad still smiled as he let his head roll forward, his forehead bouncing against Virgil’s face plate.  “Come out from there,” he slurred, voice hoarse. “I want a kiss.”

Scott was talking in his ear, but Virgil still reached up to one-handedly unlock his helmet seal.  The wind was bitterly cold as it slapped against his cheeks, but he still leaned into kiss Conrad, slow and deep enough to push through some tiny smidgen of warmth to keep his going.  “Hold onto that until I get you home.”

“Home…” Conrad sighed, cuddling up against Virgil like he wasn’t wearing fifty pounds of ice-caked rescue gear.

Virgil pulled his helmet back down. “Scott..”

“No threats needed, bro.  Ten seconds out, get ready.”

Virgil took care to clip the rescue harness around Conrad, watched him dangle, a dead weight hauled into One’s open belly.  “Don’t wait, go,” he told his brother, even as he wanted to jump up and climb right in next to Conrad.

He just had to trust his brothers, that by the time he caught up to Scott, Conrad would be warm and safe and ready to return a thousand kisses more.


End file.
